


Brave Hearts

by soliloquize



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, and mad eye moody is a fashion designer, and trans!remus, because i fucking could, everyone is queer as fuck, minerva is happily married to mrs figg with five cats, plus bipolar!sirius, the death eaters are small town conservatives now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6089134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliloquize/pseuds/soliloquize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily teaches high school, James plays football, and Sirius just tries to pick up enough modeling jobs to foot his share of the bills.  Peter is a reporter trying to pick up his landlady's daughter, and Remus is a teacher whose new friendship with a former student <i>doesn't mean anything Sirius</i>.  </p><p>There are protests and fashion shows, bantering and making out,  an abundance of truly fabulous hair, and the only thing all of them know for sure is that they're all in this crazy life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Nice Thing to Come Home To

                Practice had run late; it was nearly midnight by the time James let himself in their tiny flat.  It was suspiciously quiet at first, especially since all the lights were still on.

                “Are you having fun without me?” he called to the apartment at large.

                “James!” Lily’s voice came from the back room, quickly followed by the girl herself.  She was hanging onto Sirius—James wasn’t sure if she was drunk enough to make the support necessary, but she definitely wasn’t sober.  He dropped his keys into the bowl by the door and turned back to greet his girl and boyfriend.

                “We had _lots_ of fun without you,” Sirius informed him with a smug peck on the lips.

                “You stayed home on a Friday night and drank wine,” James replied.

                “That’s not _all_ we did,” Lily put her arms around James’s neck and stood on her toes to give him an enthusiastic kiss.  James wasn’t sure if the action was meant to mollify him, or demonstrate what he’d missed.  Either way, her breath confirmed that the two had indeed been drinking _copious_ amounts of wine in his absence.

                “Mmmm,” James murmured agreeably into the kiss.  “You want to show me what else you did?”  Lily answered him by jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist.  He gasped a little as her kisses moved down to his neck.

                “I—ah, don’t know if I believe you.  I don’t think Sirius is strong enough to hold you like this.” 

                “Oh no, I was the one holding _him_ ,” Lily said as she climbed down.  Sirius barked a laugh from where he’d moved to the couch.

                “Right, Lils.  Let’s try that sometime.”

                James laughed as he crossed the room, flopping down next to Sirius, who pulled him in for another quick kiss.

                “Why can’t I come home to this every night?” James grinned against his lips.

                “We don’t want you to take us for granted,” Sirius said as he pulled back, settling in against James.

                James was mildly affronted by this accusation.  Maybe it had taken him a while to _realize_ that his best friend who he’d grown up with and would do anything for and occasionally made out with was more than just a friend or brother, but really, he’d been in love with Sirius since they met.

                Sirius knew this, of course, so James decided not to rise to the bait.

                “How was practice?” Lily perched on the arm of the sofa; the glass of water in her hand explained that she’d made a detour to the kitchen before joining them.  It was already half-empty, and Lily was far steadier than she’d been when he walked in, though it was always hard to tell exactly how drunk Lily was at any given moment.  Two drinks at a club, and she was starting to slur her words, but she could down six mimosas at brunch with her sister and give no indication of being anything but perfectly sober.

                James jerked his head noncommittally in response to her question.  “Diggory’s still a bit of a pompous ass, but at least he knows what he’s doing.  I think we’ve got good odds for our match Sunday.”

                “Remus said he might be able to make it this weekend,” Lily said as Sirius started to play with her hair—it was just long enough to be at his eye level.

                “We should all get dinner after.  Pete’s covering the match, so we can kidnap him as well.”

                “When’s his article on the PRIDE march coming out?” Lily asked with poorly masked interest.  Sirius noticed too, and smirked.  “Oh hush,” Lily swatted at both of them, apparently noticing their matching expressions.  “Just because you’re jealous he didn’t interview _you_.”

                “Your name’s not even in it,” Sirius pointed out lazily.  Lily huffed.

                “I didn’t _want_ to be anonymous.  It’s not my fault I could get fired for being out.”

                “How is old Mr. Riddle cool with you sleeping with two different men at the same time, but not with you being bisexual?”

                “He doesn’t know I’m sleeping with both of you,” Lily replied at the same time as James muttered, “Old perv probably wishes she’d be in a three way with _him_.”

                Lily liked her job as a chemistry teacher at a private high school, but all three of them hated the head of the school board.  Besides doing his best to keep the school in the dark ages, he was a powerfully conservative voice in the little surrounding community and a grade A dick.  Lily had been put on probation twice already for trying to change the school’s abstinence only sex-ed curriculum.  Remus, who taught Lit, pointed out she could actually be risking her job by attaching her name to comments in an article about LGBTQ+ rights.  Lily had reluctantly seen the wisdom of this, but James could tell it chafed.

                “At least you’re still helping the cause,” he reminded her tentatively.  “Raising awareness.”

                “I know.  I just—feel invisible,” Lily whispered, sliding off the arm into Sirius’s lap.  James immediately put his arms around both of them.  As confidently as Sirius could announce himself “queer as fuck”, as comfortably as James walked down the street holding a boy’s hand, as happy as Lily had been with her college girlfriend, they all knew what it was like to have to hide.  And even in perfectly accepting communities, the closet had a way of sneaking back up on them; if James had banged his head against a wall every time someone assumed Sirius was just his and Lily’s third-wheel roommate, he’d have one hell of a concussion.

                “How could anyone be invisible with this muck?” Sirius held up his hand, which was still tangled in her bright red hair.  Lily’s laugh was half-hearted.

                “I mean come on—I already feel like a porn character,” she pressed on.  “Sex-crazed girl who went through a lesbian phase in college winds up so thirsty that she lives with two different men!  It’s all the awful parts of the promiscuous bisexual stereotype, but I don’t even get to have my identity acknowledged!”

                “Hey love,” James said gently, but he couldn’t think of how to follow it up.  He wanted nothing more than to always be able to comfort Lily and make her perfectly happy, but it was an elusive ability.  He was far better at football.

                “And I know there’s nothing _wrong_ with being a promiscuous woman, fuck anyone who says differently, but I feel—reduced.  Erased.”

                “Like people don’t see the real you,” Sirius finished.  Lily nodded into his shoulder.  They sat piled together for several minutes without talking.  James’s thoughts—love for Sirius and Lily, a few good curses for Riddle, the kind of philosophical introspection born only of exhaustion—swirled around in his head until finally he started to doze off.  Of course he cared that Lily was upset, but he’d also been up since half five.

                “Ready for bed, Prongs?”  The childhood nickname sounded fond coming from Sirius’s mouth.  James started guiltily before agreeing.  “Lils?”

                “Yes, please.”  The boys exhaled a laugh together, and the collective mood lightened.  James scooped Lily up off Sirius as he stood; she was a full foot shorter than he was, so the gesture was neither difficult nor unusual for them.  He dropped her on the bed—a king size, the one indulgence in a household subsidized only by the salaries of a teacher, a minor league football player, and the modeling odd jobs Sirius picked up—and went to brush his teeth.  None of them had to get up early the next day, but they were all asleep before one, which was unusual for Lily, at the very least.

                James drifted off, Lily curled into his side, his hand gently twined in Sirius’s hair, content.


	2. Of Deadlines and Crushes

Peter _hated_ deadlines.  It was why he took great care to only take the special-interest stories; this-is-breaking-news-and-better-be-on-the-press-in-an-hour-or-you’re-fired-dammit-Pettigrew had never been his thing.

Really, reporting in general wasn’t what he’d ever envisioned for himself; going through the first ten years of one’s school career with undiagnosed dyslexia did not foster a great love of writing.  He’d applied to the _Daily_ to be a cartoonist.  They hadn’t needed a cartoonist; they’d needed a reporter.  Peter didn’t have any other job prospects, so he took the reporting job.

Nine years later, and they still didn’t need a cartoonist, but Peter had settled into his position.  He was good at finding things out, and he liked playing the observer.  Let James be the one to break his ankle scoring the game winning goal, it was enough for Peter just to watch it happen and write it down.

But he _hated_ writing on a deadline.  It was his own fault, he knew—he’d been putting the article on the PRIDE event off for the last week.  He wasn’t going to lie, though, he was a little bit scared to give his editor something as— _inflammatory_ as this article.  The owner of the paper, Mr. Fudge, was a little too in tune with the small town’s politics, and Peter’s article had the potential to make a lot of important people in the town very angry.

For goodness sake—Lily had actually called out Lucius Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange _by name_.  Peter would have said that she’d been emboldened by her anonymity, except knowing Lily, she would have said whatever she wanted regardless.

It was inspiring—he could hear the fire in her voice just from reading the transcript—but also terrifying.

 _Just muck through this,_ Peter told himself.  _As soon as you’re done with this, you’ll be able to go home.  Maybe you’ll bump into Mary doing her laundry_.  Okay, there wasn’t any “maybe” about it—Peter knew full well that his landlady’s pretty daughter was always in the basement to run a load of wash on Sunday nights. 

And alright, _maybe_ that had something to do with his decision not to get dinner with his mates after James’s football match.

He could almost hear Sirius scoff.  _Pining after a girl you see once a week while she washes her underwear?  What, are you, sixteen?_

That was easy for Sirius to say.  He and James had essentially been married as long as Peter had known them, and even when they weren’t exclusive, Sirius had no shortage of willing dates and hook-ups. 

Peter sighed; the article had failed to write itself while he’d been lost in thought.  It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is pathetically short, but I decided to just make each POV switch its own chapter. There's a much longer one where Remus and Tonks are introduced in the works!
> 
> As always, I would love to discuss this au/the marauders in any situation; my tumblr is @peterpettgrw


	3. Making Connections

“ ‘Oh that this too too sullied flesh would melt’,” Remus recited to his class.  “Who can tell me what Hamlet’s thinking here?”  Blank stares greeted this question.  It wasn’t that Remus didn’t love teaching, but really.  Overtired adolescents first thing in the morning were the _worst_.

            He took a drink from his mug of coffee, grateful to have some caffeine himself, before prompting them again.  “Come on, let’s break it down word by word.  What does ‘sullied’ mean?”

            Penelope finally raised her hand, probably just taking pity on him, though she generally brought up good points.

            “It’s like, dirty or impure.  Which is a little weird since he was just talking about how gross it is that his mom remarried so quickly.”

            “Nice, exactly,” Remus told her.  “Hamlet being weird about his mom is one of the biggest things in this play.  He’s really upset with what she does with her body, and at the same time, he fixates on it.  He doesn’t always realize what’s happening, but his disgust for Ophelia and his own body are definitely linked to that.”

            Another student picked up this thread of discussion, _Nothing like bringing up incestuous undertones to spark interest_ , Remus thought wryly, and soon enough the bell to end classes rang.

            “Read Act II for tomorrow!” Remus reminded his students as they left.

            He heard Marcus complaining to his cronies as they left, but Remus ignored their whining.  He taught _Hamlet_ every year and there were inevitably demands to know “why do we have to read _this_ , Mr. Lupin?”

            “Because it’s the greatest piece of literature in the Western canon since the _Iliad_ ” was the official answer.  Remus’s personal answer was more along the lines of:

            _If a twenty-first century trans man can find it relatable, you can too._

            This was not an answer he was allowed to provide to students; in fact, he’d gone to great pains to make sure even his boss didn’t know he was trans.  Hearing his voice crack during a lecture, a laugh that still sounded a little too much like a giggle, a slight cramp in his stomach—all still sent a brief flash of panic through his chest.

            It was something he’d learned to live with.

            “Mr. Lupin?”

            He looked up out of his thoughts to see a young woman with aggressively pink hair poking her head through the door. 

            “Nymphadora?” Remus smiled, but his eyebrows drew together in confusion; she was the last person he would have expected to see on a random, otherwise unremarkable Tuesday.

            “Don’t call—“

            “Don’t call you Nymphadora, I know,” he laughed wryly.  The refrain took his memory back to his third year of teaching, but for all the intervening time, it wasn’t difficult to recall.  “Unfortunately it’s hardly professional to address one’s students by their last names only.”

            She laughed along with what Remus remembered as her trademark enthusiasm and bounded into the room, collapsing onto the chair behind his desk and spinning herself around.  She met his eyes after a full revolution and grinned.

            “I’m not your student anymore, I graduated years ago,” she said dismissively.  “Your ridiculous code of professionalism doesn’t apply.  Poof!  It’s gone,” she mimed waving a wand.  Remus shook his head, but he laughed again; Tonks, as she liked to be called, had always had an infectious smile.

            “So what brings you back here?”

            “They offered me a job,” Tonks rolled her eyes.  “Dunno why they’d want me mucking up their image, but I promised mum I’d at least interview.”  Remus privately agreed that Tonks’s bubblegum-pink undercut, though it quite suited her, was rather incongruent with the reputation of Hangleton Academy.  They chatted for the rest of Remus’s free period; a few students had even started to trickle in before he told Tonks,

            “I’m afraid this is my cue to go.”

            “Oh, of course!”

Remus snorted in a most unbecoming manner—Tonks had knocked a stack of books over when she’d leapt up from his chair, and she was now scrambling to reassemble the pile.

“Oh—hush,” Tonks retorted; witnesses had made her bashful, judging by the slight flush in her cheeks.  “We should catch up more sometime, though.”

“Er, yeah sure,” Remus hadn’t expected that; he would have assumed she’d be going back to London soon, as she was still in her last year of uni.

“I’m getting dinner with Siri at the pub tonight, you should join us!  Nineteen-hundred, but he’ll probably be late!”  As Tonks spoke, she walked toward the door, exiting before Remus had a chance to answer.

It appeared he had dinner plans.

 

 

The larger pub in town was not an uncommon location for the staff of Hangleton Academy to seek food superior to the cafeteria fare, but Remus and his friends generally opted to patronize the less reputable Hog’s Head.  It was, as Peter liked to say, “the cheapest option that doesn’t have a reputation for food poisoning”.  Remus’s private opinion was that the tap beer was simply strong enough to kill off any bacteria that may have made its way into anything else you ate.

“Well this is quite the location,” Tonks said brightly.  Remus turned in time to see her drop her handbag as she climbed up on the bar stool next to his.

“Yes, well, I’m sure Sirius intended to show you a good time,” Remus said sarcastically.  “We can give him shite for it when he finally shows up.”

“Mr. Lupin, swearing!” Tonks grinned.  “I just won a bet with Charlie; can’t forget to collect on that.”

“What bet was this?”

“Charlie said he thought you were just an old swot, and I said that was rubbish and that you probably swore like a sailor out of class.”

“I question how saying ‘shite’ once qualifies as swearing like a sailor.”

“Well, you’ve just done it again.  Two out of three things you’ve said to me tonight have contained profanity.”  Tonks smirked, but her eyes were sparkling.  Remus bent down to pick up her bag for her before he did something stupid like compliment her eyes.  _Don’t be a fucking creep_ , he told himself.  _She’s not even out of uni_.

Unfortunately, Tonks had remembered her purse at the same moment, and as Remus straightened, the back of his head smacked her in the nose.

“Oh— _damn_ ”

“Bloody fucking—are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, god I’m such a klutz,” Tonks waved one hand while the other pinched her nose.  “I don’t think it’s bleeding, anyway.”

“Are you sure?  I’m so sorry, god.”  Remus almost wished he’d just gone ahead and complimented her—he would have been less mortified.

“Well, not—er, completely,” Tonks said.  “Can you just hand me my purse?  I have a tampon in there.”

Remus passed it over, and Tonks phished out the tampon, which she unceremoniously shoved up her nose.

“Works better than napkins,” she said, only slightly nasally.

“What happened here?” Sirius said interestedly as he sauntered up to the counter; Remus had been too preoccupied with the accident to notice him entering.  “Did you have a brawl without me?”

“No, I’m just as clumsy as always.  My director’s been telling me she almost feels more comfortable telling me ‘good luck’ than ‘break a leg’,” Tonks said with an interesting mix of chagrin and amusement while Sirius gave her a hug.  “How’ya been, Siri?”

“Same old,” he said with more elaborate gestures than were necessary for such a brief statement.  “Still gorgeous.  Still getting paid to be gorgeous.”

“Your last contract was for a mop commercial,” Remus pointed out.

“But the one before that was a _shampoo_ ad,” Sirius said, tossing his hair.  It was long enough to go in a ponytail, but he usually didn’t bother.  _You think my wild mane is sexy_ , Sirius would tell Lily whenever she teased him.  Lily generally retorted by comparing it to James’s bedhead, which sent Sirius to sulking and James to preening—not that either of those activities required much provocation for either man.

The cousins fell easily to chatting, Sirius asking about the criminal law course she was taking, Tonks giving an update on her mother, who, by Remus’s understanding, had been something of a mentor to Sirius through his teen years, though he hadn’t seen her since uni.  Remus played wallflower, content to simply listen to their animated stories.  He could Sirius was having a good day; he was as hyper and charming as ever, and he even managed to get some free drinks out of the crotchety old bartender. 

They stayed a long time, though Remus hardly noticed until Tonks glanced at her watch.

“Oh damn, it’s already eleven,” she sighed.  “What do you think the odds are of finding a cab this time of night?”

“This is too far out from the city; you’d have to call one,” Sirius yawned.          

“I’m good to drive,” Remus said.  “I can take you both home.”

“Thanks, mate, but I brought the bike.”

“Then James or Lily can bring you back tomorrow to pick it up,” Remus said in a reasonable tone.  “You’ve had about five of those free drinks.”

“I don’t want to trouble you,” Tonks argued next.  “I can call a cab, it’s fine.”

“Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t take more than five minutes to drive anywhere in this sorry excuse for a town anyway,” Remus insisted.

“If you’re sure, then.  Thanks!”  Tonks slung her bag over her shoulder and they all walked out.  

James and Lily and Sirius only lived two streets over from Remus himself, so he dropped Tonks at the town’s one shoddy motel first.  As soon as Remus turned to back his car out of the lot, he made unwitting eye contact with Sirius, who wore an expression of knowing delight.

“Have a good time tonight, Moony?”

His tone made Remus blush, even though he had absolutely no reason to.

“Why wouldn’t I have?”

“I know my memory’s not always the best, but I remember pretty clearly making plans to meet my baby cousin—not my baby cousin and some idiot who’s going to spend the evening mooning over her.”

Remus sighed.  “I hope that wasn’t a pun.”

“No, no,” Sirius grinned.  “You don’t get to avoid the question that easily.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Remus said firmly, letting himself believe the words were directed only at Sirius.  “She’s my former student—she’s not even out of uni for god’s sake.”

            “Illicit love,” Sirius shrugged languidly.  “Very sexy.”

            Remus glared at him.

            “You know—“

            “—I know you aren’t into that.  So why does the age thing matter?  You’re not going to hit it.  Bam.  Problem solved.”

            There were so many problems about the situation that were very much not solved, Remus almost laughed.  Instead, he made the wise decision not to get into an argument with a tipsy Sirius about his sexuality, age, gender, poverty, and the other… complications.

            There were a lot of good reasons Remus stayed away from relationships.  Especially with pretty, outgoing young women who could clearly do much better.  

Ignoring them wasn't going to do anyone any good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was/still am pretty nervous to post this chapter. Remus is trans, ace, and HIV positive-- I am none of these things, so please please tell me if anything is offensive/misrepresentative/upsetting, that is absolutely the last thing I want. This is a free pass to call me out on my ignorance. 
> 
> Also a good time to say that I personally have nothing but support to offer to members of these populations, but Remus is an unreliable narrator who is naturally hard on himself, on top of having anxiety distorting his thoughts. Anything negative about these experiences is not meant to be commentary of any kind, just a reflection of Remus's struggles. That said, the above invitation to call out anything harmful that I'm doing as a writer still stands.
> 
> And of course, any feedback of any kind is always appreciated! Plus good news: I have some idea of plot for this story now, instead of just being aimless drabbles in this universe, so expect to see more from this!
> 
> (Fun spoilers: in addition to Minerva McGonagall being a cat lady lesbian, Mad-Eye Moody is an eccentric fashion designer)


	4. Of Good Books and Sunny Afternoons

Lily was glad to have the flat to herself.  Not that she didn’t love her boys, but after a full day of teaching rapscallions how not to blow up everything they touched, she preferred not to have to do it at home as well.  James couldn’t put a metal bowl in the microwave if he wasn’t even here.

She took off her “teaching appropriate” skirt (which was _far_ less fun than her “London club scene” skirt and significantly more demure than her “Sirius’s birthday” skirt, though at least it wasn’t her “convince Petunia I’m not a heathen” skirt) and pulled on a pair of Sirius’s boxers.  James’s were always too big for her to wear, even with the waistband rolled up.

She brought a glass of apple juice and a stack of chem papers over to the couch, so she could create the illusion that she was being productive, and then flopped down to read her novel of the week.  Remus had nearly cried upon hearing her admit she’d never read any Le Guin ( _You dare call yourself a sci-fi buff, Lily Evans?_ ), so she was getting in some quality time with _Left Hand of Darkness_ before his next opportunity to harass her in the staffroom.

Of course, he’d never seen any of the classic Doctor Who episodes, so Remus really had no business gatekeeping in the first place.

(But she’s already fifty pages in, and okay she can _kinda see_ how this might be considered the greatest sci-fi novel of the 20 th century)

It’s good enough to keep her entertained and entirely unproductive until Sirius walked in and plopped himself down next to her without even taking his jacket off.

“You smell like petrol.”

“You like it.”

“Sirius, just because I’m in love with you does not mean I automatically adore every little thing about you.”

“I’m not sure, I think that’s how it’s supposed to work,” Sirius said as he idly stroked her hair, which felt bloody wonderful at the end of a long day.

“Mmm, if you’re going to do that, you might as well give me a massage,” Lily told him.

“I fail to see the correlation.”

“It would definitely help me remember how much I love you.”

Sirius huffed and gave in.  Lily hummed happily.

“I really _do_ love you,” she told him.  “With or without massages.”

“I know you do, you vicious minx.”

Lily laughed—the words sent her straight back to the (admittedly contentious) beginning of her relationship with Sirius.  That particular epithet had been produced after he accused her of leading James on, and was followed by her nearly punching him because _women have a right to change their minds about whether they want to date people, dickrag_.  It was a fight that left both of them—and James—absolutely miserable.  It was the fight that revealed that James and Sirius weren’t exclusive with anyone they dated, or each other.

It wasn’t the last fight before Lily realized that she was jealous of Sirius _and_ James in the SiriusandJames dynamic, but that epiphany came around eventually.

“Did you have a shoot today?” Lily asked, voice vibrating from the karate chops Sirius was running up and down her back.

“Auditioned for a runway in London next month, dunno when I’ll hear back.”

“Is it an interesting designer?”

“Looks it—some bloke trying to pioneer womenswear for men.”  Sirius sounded so genuinely enthusiastic Lily had to smile.

“Have I heard of him?” 

“His name’s Moody.  He used to be more mainstream, but since his unofficial retirement they say he’s gone a bit round the bend.”

“Are they right?”  Lily leaned out of the massage and scooted down so her shoulder rested against his—a more comfortable position for gossiping.

“I mean he actually wears an eyepatch, but the clothes were brilliant.”

“An eyepatch?  Is it a fashion statement or did he actually lose an eye?”  Lily had heard stories of stranger escapades from Sirius, but not many.

Sirius shrugged.  “No one knows.”

“I dare you to steal it,” she said lazily as his arm draped over her shoulder.  “After the job is over, of course.  No reason to jeopardize your chances.”

“I like the way you think, Evans,” he said with a grin that reminded her exactly why he’d chosen a career in modeling.

“Oh yes, it was my scheming abilities that finally warmed you up to me.”

“Well it wasn’t your snogging abilities, that’s for sure.”

“Sod off, Black.”

“Make me, Evans.”

            Lily gave him a peck on the nose.  “Bet you’re intimidated now.”

            Sirius threw his head back and gave a barking laugh.  The evening sun danced in through the blinds, catching on his cheekbones.  If it had been James, the nose kiss probably would have turned into something more, but Sirius, especially when he was on his meds and stable, wasn’t particularly driven in that department (however contrary that was to his "smoldering" image).  Lily allowed herself to relax into the easiness between them, wrapping herself in it like a warm blanket.  Their dynamic wasn’t as unconditional as Sirius’s love for James, and really, Lily had been friends with _Severus_ longer than she’d even known Sirius (look how that turned out), but there was something to be said for the sense of support and stability formed between two kids who’d never had much of either.

            “Whose turn is it to make dinner?” she asked into his shoulder.

            “Think it’s James’s, but it might be safer just to order take-out.”

            “The stir fry was almost edible.”

            “If you’re a fan of burned garlic.”

            “Let’s invite Remus and Pete over, we can do a leftovers potluck.”

            “I got dinner with Remus yesterday, and it was quite enlightening,” Sirius grinned wickedly.

            “How much can there possibly be that you boys don’t know about each other yet?”  Lily had always had a jealous admiration for their closeness, back in uni.  You never saw any of them (the _Marauders_ , as they’d named their short lived attempt at a band) without at least one of the other three.

            “This is a recent development.”

            “Well, alright Black, spill.”

            “I was supposed to be meeting Dora for dinner, and she brought him along,” Sirius said smugly.  “And there were about thirty seconds out of the whole night that he didn’t spend staring at her.  Including the drive home.”

            “Dora—Tonks?  Your cousin?  My ex-student?”

            “And _Remus_ ’s ex-student,” Sirius smirked.

            Lily laughed, although she felt like she probably shouldn’t.

            “Did he admit to being interested?”

            “’Course not.”

            “Did she seem interested in him?”

            “Wouldn’t bet my life on it, but Remus certainly didn’t invite himself to dinner.”

            Lily mulled this over, the thrill of second-hand gossip thrumming in her chest.  She wanted Remus to be happy, and from what she remembered of Tonks, it wasn’t hard to see how the two of them could be good together.  _Happiness and a good relationship aren’t the same thing_ , Lily chided herself.  _And a relationship certainly isn’t a prerequisite._

            “Is Tonks ace?  Is a relationship something Remus actually wants?”  Lily, trying to avoid going to hell on a road paved with good intentions (there were already plenty of reasons she was going to hell, anyway).

            “Dunno, and it’s so hard to tell with him, you know?  He can rationalize the shit out of everything.”

            Lily did know.  Remus generally left people under the impression that his asexuality only extended as far as physical stuff, but he also never seemed to pursue romance with anyone.  She was more than ready to encourage him to go for it, but she really didn’t want it to be unwelcome pressure.  Society was already too overbearing about relationships.  (Fuck society).

            “If he comes over to dinner, we can ask him.”

            “I hope by ‘ask’ you mean ‘pry shamelessly’.”

            “’Pry’ is such an uncouth word.”

            “Well then, my Lady Evans, I’ll not suggest the matter again.”

            “Sirius, your accent is too posh for that to sound satirical.”

            He casually gave her the V as he scooped up his phone to dial the others.  Lily stretched out, returning to her book.  If Remus got awkward about Tonks, she wanted to have another topic of conversation ready to fire.

            (And okay, she could understand why it was sort of a travesty that she hadn’t read any Le Guin earlier.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly an attempt to flesh out the Sirius/Lily dynamic (or at least give it some sort of foundation). Lily's POV is surprisingly fun to write!
> 
> Remus/Tonks is not the main plotline of this story, it's just getting a lot of attention here in the exposition because it's one of the only moving parts atm. Things will pick up for the other four soon.
> 
> As always, any feedback is appreciated, especially regarding characterization! You can also hmu on tumblr @peterpettgrw


	5. Dinners, Dates, and Internal Debates

 

“I brought lasagna,” Peter said as he let himself in to the flat James, Sirius, and Lily were all too lazy to lock. 

“Vegetarian?” Lily called from the couch across the room.  She was holding a paperback open in one hand, her other arm and half a leg draped under an afghan.

“Not sure, my landlady made it.”

“Oho!” Sirius appeared from the kitchen to waggle his eyebrows.  “The dashing Mrs. MacDonald cooking just for you?”

“Shut it,” Peter said, knowing he was blushing and hating himself for it.  “She’s like sixty, you tosser.”

“So’s old maid McGonagall, that never stopped James from crushing on her while we were growing up.”

“She wasn’t an old maid, Sirius, she was a lesbian!”  Lily appeared confident enough in her ability to win the debate that she didn’t bother looking up from her book.

“That didn’t stop James from fancying her either.”

“James has low standards; Pete’s better than that.”

“What disparaging things are my adoring life partners saying about me today?” James said, walking in and going around Peter to kiss Sirius with enviable ease.

“That you’ll fancy anything on two legs, including your old lesbian neighbor.”

“Lily, if you’re going to be a part of this conversation, you could be so kind as to join us instead of shouting across the room.”

“Black, we all know if I come over there James is going to start kissing me instead, and then you’ll be irritated _and_ jealous.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, took Peter’s lasagna, and went back to the kitchen.  Peter watched him go, hoping Remus would show up soon.  Spending time with the three lovebirds alone was like eating a whole handful of sour candy at once--it made his jaw clench up but sort of left him wanting more anyway. 

“Pete, what’s up with you, mate?” James’s accustomed grin sat easily on his face.   Peter endeavored to follow his lead and lighten up.

“I think my landlady is trying to set me up with her daughter,” he offered.

“Is she nice?”  _You would have asked Sirius if she was hot_ , Peter thought before quickly scolding himself for the unwarranted bitterness.  _Stop being so damn insecure_.

He nodded.  “She’s great.  Really pretty, says hi to me a lot.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a chance, man.  Go for it.”

“What’s her name?” Lily called, apparently determined to maintain her position on the couch.

“Mary MacDonald.”

“No, seriously?”  Lily laughed.  “She was my freshman roommate.”

“Small world,” Peter said nervously.  He wanted to ask for advice—Mary’s favorite movie or ice cream or if Lily thought he had a shot—but he didn’t.

“Did Remus say he was coming?” James asked Lily in the pause that followed Peter’s lackluster reply.

“Yeah, I think he had a bit of grading he wanted to finish first, though.”

“Ugh, he better get here soon, I’m starved.  Diggory worked our asses off today.”

“But you guys won your last match,” Peter pointed out.

“Yep, which means we have a shot at the finals bracket.  And we’re going to train like it!” James drew his eyebrows together and deepened his voice in an imitation of the Lion’s head coach.  Peter snorted obligingly as Remus’s trademark soft knock sounded at the door.

“Come in!”

“I’m afraid this is all I have to offer.” Remus held up a six pack of local brew and half a loaf of bread.

“No worries, Pete’s little beau provided enough lasagna for all,” James told him.

“I didn’t realize you two were so close, Pete, good on ya’.”

Peter smiled awkwardly at Remus’s support; he’d confided in the other single member of their group a few weeks ago, but didn’t like to keep bringing it up--making a nuisance of himself, as his father would say.

“Her mum made it; I think she wants Mary to settle down.”

“Getting parental approval is the hardest bit,” Lily said encouragingly.

“Because my parents are _so_ intimidating and judgmental,” James said, rolling his eyes.  It went without saying that the approval of Sirius’s parents was neither desirable nor attainable.

“I didn’t know _what_ they were—you didn’t tell me anything, you just let me show up to your posh-ass house in jeans with a _bacon casserole_ —“

“You knew I didn’t eat meat!” James bore a shit eating grin which grew proportional to Lily’s volume.

“But Sirius did!  I didn’t know it was a religious thing,” Lily moaned.  “I grew up in, like, the Mayonnaise capital of the world.  I didn’t know anyone who wasn’t even Catholic until uni.”

“Then it sounds like meeting James’s parents was a learning experience for you,” Remus cut in.

“It was so disrespectful!”

“They forgave you,” James said dismissively.  “They know it’s the thought behind the action that matters.”

“They shouldn’t have had to forgive me,” Lily said, but with less heat—realizing, perhaps, that James was purposefully winding her up.

“Oi, you lot, dinner’s ready,” Sirius hollered from the kitchen.  They crowded in to sit around the table, which really, Peter thought, was not made to sit five people.  Remus pulled out glasses as Lily cut bread.  James grabbed a pill bottle from the cupboard behind the sink and handed Sirius a tablet after he set down the lasagna from the oven.  Peter, not wanting to feel useless, set out two plates, a Frisbee, and two soup bowls—the only clean dishes left from the apartment’s eclectic collection.  Peter, who’d known Mrs. Potter much longer than Lily, had to wonder if she’d seen the state of her son’s domestic life.

“So Remus, what’s new with you?” Lily said with a deplorable poker face.  Peter couldn’t think of what she would be trying to hide, but the indiscretion didn’t escape Remus either.

“Nothing, why?” he said with narrowed eyes.

“No reason.”

“Right, and my grandmother was the first person to set foot on the moon.  ‘Fess up, Evans.”

“Sirius said you were on a date-type thing last night?”  Peter saw James’s eyes dart to Remus, sharing Peter’s own curiosity.  Remus’s eyes showed only exasperation.

“It wasn’t—we were just catching up.  And Sirius was there too!”

“Would it have been a date if I wasn’t there?” Sirius asked with the enticing grin professors everywhere had given extensions to for every paper Sirius had ever been assigned.

Remus, through prolonged exposure, was immune.  “No, it wouldn’t have.”

“Would you have wanted it to be?” Peter piped up.  Normally he wouldn’t pry, but he’d confided in Remus.  It would have been nice to have the trust returned.

“I don’t know,” Remus glared around the table, then stood to get a beer from the fridge.

“Y’know it’s okay if you did want it to be a date, right Moony?” James said.

“She’s—I was her _teacher_ , James!” 

Peter very much doubted that was Remus’s real problem with the idea of dating this girl.

“Wait, who is she?” James asked.

“Nymphadora Tonks,” Remus muttered.

“Andy’s kid,” Sirius supplied at James’s questioning glance.

“Exactly—she’s a _kid_.”

“Try telling her that,” Sirius smirked.  Remus groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Remus,” Lily said firmly, “if you aren’t interested in dating Tonks—or anyone else—that’s fine.  But if you think the problem is that _they_ shouldn’t want to date _you_ , well, it’s not really fair of you to make that decision for them.”

Remus’s frustration flickered, but whatever he was going to reply remained unsaid.

“Right.  Anyone else want a beer?” he answered instead.

The other four shared some sidewise glances with each other, but after a beat of silence, the topic change stood.

“I’ll take a beer,” Peter said.

“And me.” Lily rose to clear her plate as she spoke.

Peter wondered if Remus was disappointed, as well as relieved, that they’d dropped the issue.  Even as Peter would deflect questions about Mary, he was always a little crushed when people actually stopped expressing interest in his life.

The conversation pattered on, and Peter felt his thoughts slipping back to Mary.  Was there a way to make sure she was home when he returned the lasagna dish?  She _had_ smiled to him in the elevator this morning.  Would it be too soon to ask her on a date?  They hadn’t really talked that much.  But her mum _did_ like him.  And Remus thought he might have a shot.

He left the flat full of food and a small amount of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest thing I've ever written from Peter's POV, and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I see him as being more of a wallflower in a group of friends that has so many strong personalities (but I'm literally always down to talk about his character, hmu here or @peterpettgrw on tumblr)
> 
> Other things: The Potters practice Hinduism, and although James himself is not spiritual, he holds most of the traditions he was raised with  
> The pill James gives Sirius is a lithium dose, the most common medication for bipolar disorder (having someone else be involved with taking meds is a good strategy to help people stay on their meds. I figure James and Sirius have been in each others' lives for so long that this is a routine they don't even have to think about)
> 
> As always, comments or critiques are appreciated! I'll have another chapter up soon with some Real Plot Things, so keep an eye out, and thanks for reading


	6. Of Opportunities and Orgasms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just please forgive me for this chapter title
> 
> also the second half of this chapter is just plot-irrelevant smut so if that's not your jam, you can skip it and still be able to follow the story

“We should get a cat.”

“What for?”

Sirius looked up from his online Spanish course to his mobile, where James’s voice came through on speaker phone.

            “Cats are cute and low maintenance and I need some company around here when you lot are away all day.”

            “I always pictured us with a dog,” James sounded muffed; he must have had to look away from his phone.  Sirius was pretty sure James was supposed to be studying at any rate—he’d gone back to school to finish his B.E. only to realize how much he’d forgotten in the years since they’d all graduated.  He spent as much time on classwork as he did at the pitch these days.

            “I dunno, cats seem more elegant.”

            “Are we elegant people though?”

            “Speak for yourself, Potter.”

            “What did Lily say?”

            “Haven’t asked.  She’s at her real job so I have to ‘respect her boundaries’ or some rubbish.”

            “What an overachiever.  With her ‘real job’ and ‘consistent salary’.”

            “Someone should take her down a notch,” Sirius mumbled, trying to conjugate “conocer” in his head at the same time.  His phone beeped at him.  “Oh, hang on I’ve got a call coming in.”

            “I’ll hang up.  Love you.”

            Sirius hit the button to accept the new call.  “Hello?”

            “This is the phone of Sirius Black?” a gruff voice asked suspiciously.

            “And the man himself.”

            “Mr. Black, what did you wear to my audition on the 4th of last month?”

            Sirius wracked his brain, trying to think of what he’d auditioned for last month, and why he would possibly be asked such a question.  The answer to both dilemmas came at the same time; he was speaking with the crazy “Mad-Eye” Moody.  Apparently the old designer’s eccentricity had not been exaggerated.  “I think I was wearing a white V-neck and black skinny jeans?”

            “Good, good.  Can’t be too careful.  Always make sure you know who you’re talking to, Mr. Black.”

            “Er, right.  Was there a reason you called, sir?”

            “Of course there was, lad!  Aren’t there any brains in that pretty head of yours?  I want you to walk in my London show at the end of the month.”

            “That’s wonderful news, sir.  It would be my pleasure.”

            “You’re a professional, so I’ll take the liberty of assuming you know how this goes.  The dates and times were all in your audition packet, and you’ll be notified if anything changes.”

            Sirius confirmed that he did indeed know how these things went, and successfully maintained the mask of professionalism until Moody got off the phone (after warning him to have _constant vigilance!_ against pickpockets when he arrived in London).  Then he took advantage of the empty apartment to dance wildly around.  He’d never thought of modeling as a career, just something he was good at and could use to pay the bills until he found his real passion, but this could be a _huge fucking break_ and he couldn’t help but be excited.

            He felt like a hyperactive dog, staring at the door, waiting for James and Lily to come home so he could share the news.

            _we’re going to london, bitches!_ he typed in their group message.

            James sent back a series of question marks and Lily added _is this about the runway job?!_

            _Hog’s Head for dinner, my treat_

_how generous you are, sirius darling._

_I love how you spoil us._

_really, james, we are too lucky._

_Don’t you have a class to teach, Evans?_ Sirius added the suspicious emoji face and then tossed his phone on the couch.  He mixed an Old Fashioned in a wine glass, briefly entertained the notion of doing dishes, and decided to take a hot shower instead.

            “Tu hiciste bien, Black,” he said to his reflection, reasonably certain that was the correct translation of “you done good”.  Sirius had a gift for languages, his teachers had always said so.  His parents had too, usually hand in hand with a comment on how he was throwing away all his talents, but Sirius generally tried his very best never to think of what they would say.

            His reflection was now sporting a scowl.  Sirius practiced arching his eyebrows and let the grimace morph into a smirk, ruffling his hair.  The gesture pulled up the hem of his shirt, and Sirius admired the visual.   This was one of his most reliable poses for shoots, careless and sexy.

            There were a lot of things Sirius didn’t like about himself, but his appearance wasn’t one of them.  He grinned and turned the shower on as hot as it would go, shedding his shirt entirely.

            The water hit his back, scalding fingers tracing down his spine; he luxuriated in the sensation for several minutes before he actually started washing himself.  Catching sight of Lily’s razor, he wondered if mad old Moody would have him shave anything for the show.  Sirius didn’t grow a beard (though he loved James’s stubble, holy fuck), but everywhere else his hair was very dark.  It was a pain to shave, but to a lot of designers it conflicted with the polished European Adonis look he was so good at pulling off.  He didn’t tan particularly well either, but he wasn’t as pale as Lily by any means, and bronzer could work miracles in the right hands.

            Hair wrapped in a towel, Sirius threw on some jeans that probably actually belong to James, judging by how low they hung on his hips, and a Beatles cutoff he was pretty sure Remus had given him as a joke.  By the time Lily walked in, he was absorbed in smashing James’s Mariokart high scores.

            She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his damp hair.

            “Oi, I was in first place!”

            “Oh, hush.  Be excited!  We’re going to London!”

            Sirius grinned despite himself.  Letting her think he’d given in, he wrapped his arms around her waist, only to start tickling her.  She immediately became deadweight, pulling them both down to the floor, still laughing.  Sirius smacked a kiss onto her lips before letting her go, and James greeted him with a kiss when he walked in a few minutes later.

            “Shall we go?  I was promised a classy dinner at our finest establishment.”  James’s careless attitude was belied by how tightly he hugged Sirius.

            Lily grabbed the keys.  “Sounds wonderful, I’m starved.”

            “Filet Mignon for us all.”

            “Right, at the Hog’s Head.  Sounds like a great plan.”

            As it turned out, the Hog’s Head didn’t even have steak on the menu, but their shepherd’s pie was completely edible _and_ they had champagne that was only twenty-five quid.  The bottle was dusty and the champagne’s taste corresponded directly to it’s price, but it was a good night.  Old Abe even gave them a free round, once Lily mentioned Sirius’s gig and batted her eyelashes a few times.

            “Not going to come back too good for us now, are ya Black?” he grunted.

            Sirius tossed his hair.  “Abe, I have _always_ been too good for this dump.”

            “Damn city slicker.”  He made a cheerfully rude gesture before going down to serve the wizened old woman at the end of the bar, and they made sure to leave a good tip when they left.

            On the drive home, Sirius could tell he was a little tipsy, but he didn’t think that was why everything was glowing.  He was good, he had done something good, everything was good.  

            “Really, Pads, I’m so proud of you,” James pulled him in and nuzzled his neck as they walked in the door.  Lily’s arms were around Sirius on his other side, and her hand found James’s behind his back.  Sirius luxuriated in their touch, like he was still in the indulgently hot shower.

            He tugged Lily closer and found James’s lips as they got inside their tiny entrance hall.  James deepened the kiss eagerly, stirring up Sirius’s insides, before pulling back.

            “This okay?”

            Sirius nodded and James grinned, pulling him and Lily down towards the bedroom.  He grabbed Lily around the waist, lifting her off the ground and collapsing with her down on the bed.  Sirius crawled on top of James, straddling him and shivering when Lily ran her hand up the inside of his leg.

            Sirius had given up trying to label his sexuality a while ago.  It didn’t seem consistent, and he was pretty sure his meds messed with his drive anyway.  He’d told people he was gay, ace, pan, demi, and _just really fucking queer_ at different points in his life.  It wasn’t something he knew how to explain in words.

            But whatever you would call it, this was it.  James telling him how proud he was.  Lily pressed against him, both of them, like she couldn’t bear not to touch them.  He didn’t need it to be about sex, it was enough just to be with the people he loved, loving him back.

            And you know, orgasming was pretty enjoyable too.

            Sirius stayed on top of James, sucking at his jaw, grinding his hips down carefully.  James was plenty good in bed, but it was so _easy_ to get him going--honestly Sirius could probably do it in his sleep, James’s body was so familiar--that it was fun to get him off first.  James groaned and let his head fall back, thrusting up against Sirius.

            “Fuck, Padfoot.”  Lily moved to bite his ear and he gasped.  She laughed and Sirius felt himself get even harder just hearing it.

            “I’m beginning to feel neglected.  Am I going to have to do it all myself over here?” she teased.  Sirius turned his head enough to see her slim fingers slide under her own waistband.  There was a beautiful smooth patch of skin just above it where her shirt had ridden up, and his brain fuzzed.

            “Right, no,” he said, grasping for his train of thought.  “Just let me finish with James here, yeah?  He’s impatient.  He doesn’t want to help you.”  Sirius broke the taunt with kisses while James swore at him, then rolled off so James could move to Lily and took advantage of the transition to tug James’s shirt off with his own.  James slid his hand up Lily’s stomach as he kissed the inside of her thigh and Sirius nuzzled under her curtain of hair to her neck, wishing he could bottle the way her breath hitched so he could listen to it forever.

            “No visible marks, you—bastard, god, James!”  Lily whimpered.  “Sirius, I have work tomorrow.”

            Sirius grunted in acknowledgement before doing his part to render her unable to speak.  She didn’t go down without a fight, swearing and moaning and grabbing at James’s hair as he worked between her legs.  Indulging himself, Sirius paused to watch them, stroking his own erection as he admired Lily, pale and perfect and utterly undone, with James’s dark, long fingered hands gripping her hips—James himself clearly hanging on to control only by the barest thread.

            Sirius slid down the bed and straddled James’s back, loving the way his hips rocked up erratically at Sirius’s kiss, the way Lily screamed when James pushed harder between her legs.  Sirius sat himself just below James’s ass and rocked gently, increasing speed and intensity because he couldn’t fucking help it.

            “I’ve got a great view from up here,” he gasped out.  Lily met his eyes and smirked—god that girl could smirk—and put her fingers in her mouth. 

            “James,” she said as she pulled them out, slowly enough to melt every last one of Sirius’s brain cells, pushing James’s head to the side with her other hand, “stop and take your knickers off before you come in your fucking pants.”

            “Yeah, _James_ ,” Sirius groaned as he felt James shift under him.  “We’re refined adults now.  None of this shagging like teenagers in the school locker rooms.”

            “If refined is what you want to call it.”

            “Yeah, it is, see we’re using lube and everything,” Sirius said, grabbing it from the bedside table and squirting it into his palm.  “We might as well be at the fucking Ritz.”

            James gave a snort of laughter that got cut short as Sirius found his asshole and eased a finger in.  Lily propped herself up beside them to watch, her own hand between her legs now.

Sirius jerked a hand along his own dick as he slid another finger into James, pumping slowly, bending down to kiss him when James moaned.

            “Ready—now,” he whimpered.

            “Are you sure?” Sirius drawled, although his attempt to be coy was marred by the franticness with which he unwrapped the condom and slid it on.

            “Sirius,” he whined.

            “First move.” Sirius nudged James until he moved to lie his head on Lily’s stomach.  Her hand curled in his hair while her own gasps increased.  “You’re so needy, Prongs,” Sirius said as he slid his dick in, after which his access to rational thought disintegrated neatly, and there was nothing in the world except the pressure around his dick, and the feeling of James’s erection in his hand, stroking in time as he rolled his hips, the intervals becoming less measured with each thrust.  Lily was close, he could hear the small little whimpers in the back of her throat that she always made, and James’s muscled legs were around his waist, gripping, _god_ he loved football players.  Sirius panted, trying to maintain even a façade of control over his movements, but he was thrusting mindlessly, so close, so close, so close.

            James cried out as Sirius slammed into his prostate, and they came together, gasping and glorious.  Sirius collapsed on top of him and planted a kiss on his shoulder.

            “Need any help, love?” he asked Lily after a beat.

            “Please.”

            James grabbed the hand she had been fingering herself with and brought it to his mouth, sucking on her wet fingers.  Sirius thumbed her clit as he pumped two fingers of his left hand—not the one he’d fingered James with, a particularly nasty infection a few years ago had taught them all _that_ lesson—inside her, slipping a third in as she rocked against him.  It didn’t take long for her to climax, but none of them were quick to disentangle themselves or stop trading lazy kisses to clean up and get ready for bed.

            Even once they had turned the lights off, everything was still glowing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been so long! on the bright side, I'm posting like three chapters right in a row


	7. With a Little Help from My Friends

Remus sighed as he tried to follow a student’s train of thought through rushed points and bad handwriting.  _This is why I tell them to use quotes from the text_.

            Maybe he would have to go over this bit again in class.  He’d always found _Macbeth_ to be much more straightforward than _Hamlet_ , but none of the students seemed to understand the equivalency of sleep and death.

            Remus wished he could sleep.  Not in a death way, just in a nap way.  Preferably a dreamless nap way.  His body had been feeling run down lately, almost reminding him of the first few days when he got his period, but also making him think of opportunistic viral infections.  Neither were remotely pleasant considerations.

            He couldn’t even look forward to sleeping in over the weekend; he would be in London to see Sirius’s show, and while he was excited to go and proud of Sirius for landing the gig, it didn’t sound like the most restful way to spend his time.

            “Hey, nerd.”  A dark red head poked in his door.  Red, not pink.  “Have you eaten?”

            Remus thought about it.  “I had… some cold pizza for breakfast?” That had to count for something.

            He could hear Lily roll her eyes.  “I brought you some tea, but you shouldn’t skip lunch.”

            “Thanks, love.”  He took the mug and made a face.  “You put milk in it.”

            “Remus Lupin, you may be a heathen, but I don’t have to encourage you.”

            “You don’t have to drink tea that’s as pale as you are, and yet—“

            “Oh, go eat a sandwich!”

            They took a moment to laugh, and Remus sipped at the milky tea.

            “I didn’t interrupt you did, I?”

            He shook his head.  “Anything to put off grading.”

            “I’ll drink to that.”

            “We can go out after Sirius’s show.  When are you lot leaving for the city?”

            “Tomorrow after work, why?  We’re taking the train so we can’t give you a ride.”

            “No, I was just wondering how long you would be there.”

            “I would live there if I could.”  Lily sat in the chair next to his desk and rested her ankle boots on the pile of essays—for emphasis or comfort, he wasn’t sure.

            “You don’t seem like a city person to me.”

            “What kind of person do I seem like?”

            “Cottage in the woods.  Singing to animals, the kindly witch stereotype.”

            “ _Is_ there a kindly witch stereotype?” Lily asked, nevertheless sounding delighted with this assessment of her personality.

            Remus shrugged and pulled a face.  “Go live in the woods, you could be the basis for one.”

            “No, I like the city.  It’s possible to find people who don’t get off by informing strangers that gay people are going to hell when you’re in a city.”

            “And I’ll drink to _that_.”

            Remus knew exactly how much jeopardy his job would be in if the school board had any idea his parent’s had named him Diana when he was born.  Or that he was ace.  Or—well, there are a lot of things that could get him in trouble with their conservative, traditionalist school board.  Not that there were many people outside of their immediate friend group that he could expect to be actually accepting of him, not in Hangleton. 

            “Maybe I should go live off in the woods,” he snorted.  “I don’t like cities, but my existence is a little controversial for a town as small as this.”

            “Yes, Remus.  How inconsiderate you are for existing.” 

            “My deepest apologies, Miss Evans.  I shall do my best not to corrupt the youth while I’m at it.”

            “Shit, speaking of,” Lily swung her legs down, “my class starts in five.  I better head over.”

            Remus enjoyed a short laugh at her expense.  The chem wing was the opposite end of the building and up a flight of stairs.  She’d either have to run or accept walking in after the bell.  Turning his attention back to thoughts of his own class, Remus began copying the passages from each play that he wanted the students to compare—Macbeth’s “out, out brief candle” speech against Hamlet’s “to be or not to be”.  He yawned into his raised arm.

            His job was about the only thing that kept him in Hangleton, but for once Remus was looking forward to the weekend.

 

 

            The train ride alone confirmed Remus’s initial suspicions; this was not going to be a weekend of relaxation.  First they had police searching the train--apparently they’d gotten a tip about a drug dealer running his prescription painkiller ring out of a dining car—and then Remus’s trunk finally wheezed it’s last breath falling quite to pieces as he swung it up to the luggage rack.

            “I think I have some duct tape,” Peter offered.  _How long do I have until someone mistakes me for a homeless person_ , he wondered as he mummified his luggage in tape.   

            Even with all the chaos surrounding their departure, Remus snagged a solid hour of sleep, checking out until Peter shook his shoulder.

            “What are the odds the station has decent coffee?”

            “Slim to none.  Are you in any state to be picky?” Peter quirked an eyebrow.  Remus veered towards the little kiosk and filled a cup with the darkest roast they had.

            “Come on then, we’re meeting Lily and James at the hotel.”  It was close enough to walk, and Remus appreciated the exercise, especially with the morning being brisk enough to perk him up nearly as effectively as the coffee.

            “How’s Mary?” Remus asked Peter once he felt like a civilized human.  His friend blushed a little.

            “Still intimidatingly pretty.”

            “Hey, just ask her for coffee or something.  You don’t need to make it steak and red wine over candlelight.  Keep it casual.  Or even ask her explicitly as friends at first so you can get to know each other without the pressure of a date.”

            “I know she’s been talking with Reg Cattermole a lot though.  I don’t want to miss my chance.”

            “Then make it a date and hope she says yes?  I don’t know, I don’t exactly specialize in romantic advice.”

            “So you meant it, about not wanting to date Sirius’s cousin?”

            Remus shot him a baleful glance. 

            “There are so many issues with me dating _anyone_ , whether I want to doesn’t even make the top ten.”  Remus meant it, and he had no interest in entertaining hypotheticals that could only serve to make him unhappy.

            “You know sometimes I think the same thing about my weight,” Peter finally said.  “I’m not attractive like James or Sirius; who deserves to get saddled with someone like me?”

            “Pete, that’s bullshit!”  Remus said hotly.  “You’re funny and you’re clever and you care for people—why on earth should it matter—“

            A meaningful look from Peter cut him off.

            “Don’t even start.  It’s not the same.”

            “If you don’t like the girl, that’s fine, Remus.  If you don’t ever like anyone, whatever, that’s valid.  But no one needs you to play the martyr.”

            _It’s a rubbish comparison,_ Remus thought furiously.  _You couldn’t possibly understand_.

            He didn’t say anything the rest of the way to the hotel.

 


	8. Of Meaning Well and Raising Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really like that this chapter title rhymes, I don't know how relevant it is to the material
> 
> also, in case the chapter breaks are throwing anyone off, chapters 7-10 all happen in the same day, just from different POVs

James peered around the backstage area of the show with great interest; it was as busy and bustling as any pregame locker room, and probably more so.  There were no terrifying personal assistants to brandish stilettos and makeup palettes in a locker room.  He wasn’t sure he was supposed to be there at all, but he was staying out of the way and hadn’t been yelled at yet.  Lily and Peter had elected to sightsee, while Remus begged off in favor of a nap.  They’d all meet in the audience before the show this afternoon.

            Until then, James took in the world of fashion.  He’d yet to see the mad designer, but if the models were all being painted head to toe under his orders, James had seen plenty of evidence towards the man’s eccentricity. 

            Sirius caught his eye and grinned, causing the makeup artist covering him in blue paint to scold him.  James snickered until someone else bumped into him, diverting his attention immediately.

            “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”

            “Don’t worry about it,” James insisted, kneeling to help the brightly colored (though unpainted) girl pick up the assorted brushes she’d dropped in the collision.  “I’m probably in the way back here.”

            “Well you certainly don’t look like you’re supposed to be here,” she said with amusement.  “But as you were so nice to help me gather my things, I won’t tell.”  She winked, and it was so reminiscent of another person James knew quite well, he gasped.

            “You’re not—Andromeda Tonks’s daughter?”

            Taking a second look at him, surprise registered on her own face.

            “James?”

            He nodded, still a little blindsided; he hadn’t seen the girl since she was four or five, and he couldn’t think what she was doing here.  She just laughed.

            “I saw Siri was cast, should have known you’d tag along!”

            “You are Nymphadora Tonks, right?”

            “Oh yeah, you can call me Tonks.”  She took his hand and shook it enthusiastically.

            “Are you here to see Sirius?”

            “Nah, I’m a makeup artist!  I’m much better with prosthetics and costume stuff, but old Moody likes me so he brought me on for the gig.”

            “Do you know why they’re painting the models?”  James asked, accepting the unexpected and moving on easily.

            “Some symbolism thing.  Rainbow for pride, I know, but I think Moody also wants to make a point about ‘the typical human’ not being the type to wear his clothes.  He’s a bit mad.”

            “I’ve heard.  He does wear an eyepatch, doesn’t he?”

            “Oh yeah, he could totally be a pirate villain in a children’s movie.”

            “What’s under the eyepatch?”

            “Don’t know, I’ve always wondered.”  She grinned before glancing at her watch.  “Damn, I better go, we’re only thirty minutes from walking.”

            “Nice seeing you again,” James called after her.  A beat later it hit him, and he immediately pulled out his phone to text Lily a long string of exclamation points.

            _what???_ She answered promptly.

            _She’s here!!_

_who_

_The girl.  Sirius’s cousin.  The one Remus may or may not like._   He sent the response in three different messages for emphasis, and it was Lily’s turn to reply with an excessive amount of exclamation points.

            _we should invite her to dinner_ , she followed up with.  _unless that would put too much pressure on remus?_

_I mean they already got dinner once.  It’s not like we’d be setting them up on a blind date._

_well now that you mention it… ;)_

_Hahaha he would hate us._

_but a big group dinner?  he cant complain there_

James pocketed the phone and cast around for Tonks.  She looked busy with a dancer-looking guy, carefully brushing purple paint over his dark skin, but after a few minutes, she rushed past James again, wiping her hands on her jeans.

            “Tonks, hey,” he said, walking with her.  “You should come for dinner with us after the show, and we can all catch up properly.”

            “Oh, that sounds great!  I really have to go now, but Sirius can text me the details.”

            “Right, good luck with everything back here.”

            Tonks dove back into the chaos of the dressing area with her perpetual grin.  James’s smile as he joined his friends in the audience was almost as smug as Lily’s.


	9. Moments You Remember

Lily had never been to a runway show.  Her sense of fashion was comprised of whatever she could most easily steal from the people closest to her, rounded out with thrift store finds.  She’d gone to a few of Sirius’s weekend shoots, but that truly had not prepared her for the scale of a professional runway.  There was glam-punk music blaring from the speakers and bright lights and body paint and a simply packed audience who were all dressed in much more expensive clothes than she.

            She’d already been excited for Sirius, but now it began to hit her just how big this show _was_. 

            “Holy shit,” Remus said, having apparently come to the same conclusion.  “They have _Albus Dumbledore_ introducing the show.”

            “You’re kidding!”

            James grabbed his program.  “Fuck, I can’t believe he’s still alive.”

            “I know, he’s been leading the movement since King George was on the throne.”

            “Man’s a legend,” Remus said reverentially.

            “Oh I hope Sirius can hear him speak from backstage!”

            “My phone is charged, I can record it,” Peter piped up.  Lily clapped him on the back, lit up from the inside.  She couldn’t even say the word “bisexual” at home, and here she was, about to watch a fashion show of men in dresses emceed by the greatest queer rights activist of the century.  She imagined telling Petunia about it—her sister would faint dead away at the idea.

            Lily grinned.  “Oh my god, I can’t wait!”

            James pulled her into his side, kissing the top of her head.  She could tell how much this moment meant to him, too—she could only guess what it must be like for Sirius, to actually be a part of it.

            The music dampened suddenly, and a spotlight came up on the far end of the runway.  The crowd caught its breath together.  Then the most elegant man Lily had seen in her entire life appeared, mic in hand.  He had to have been at least as tall as James (except maybe not, his pointy toed boots looked heeled) with silver hair falling down his back in a low ponytail.  Under his supremely long beard, he was wearing a bright purple slim cut suit.  The overall effect was quite memorable.

            “Ladies, gentlemen, honored persons.  Friends, family, and fashion enthusiasts.”  He smiled as he spoke, and Lily had trouble believing such a kindly seeming man was the same one who’d been described as “little less than a hurricane” for his protests and speeches.

            “Today is a celebration.  We celebrate femininity, strength, and pride.  We celebrate the assumptions we challenge and the love we share.  We celebrate the talent of my own dear friend, Alastor Moody.”  He paused, allowing the cheers that had punctuated his words to swell into proper applause.  “I anticipate with great pleasure the moment we ‘get on with the show’, as they say, but I must beg your attention for a few minutes longer.  We are here today to celebrate, but we cannot celebrate without acknowledging the fights that still remain and the brave hearts we have lost along the way.  It is in their memory that I announce the profits from today’s show and all future profits from this line will go to the Elton John AIDS Foundation, and humbly ask you to consider contributing a donation of your own.  There are few worthier causes than theirs:  providing the scientific, social, and medical support needed to end the terror and tragedy brought upon us by the virus that has taken so much from us as individuals and a community!”

            Dumbledore was drowned out by the claps and cheers of the crowd, and he took the moment to compose himself (it made Lily wonder how many people he’d known—how many people he’d _lost_ to AIDS).  Lily did not consider herself an overly emotive person—not compared to James and his constant displays of affection or humor or irritation, not compared to her mother who would still cry at _Bambi_ even as an adult—but she felt her eyes tearing up, her body so filled with the emotion of audience and speaker that it had to overflow somehow.  Beside her, Remus was shaking; she caught hold of his hand and squeezed it tightly as Dumbledore raised his hands for silence.

            “I thank you for indulging an old man’s waffling.  Now, please enjoy _New Magic_ by Alastor Moody!”  He was escorted offstage by the opening strains of “I’m Still Standing” and more deafening applause.

            The first model appeared, a slim purple man with an afro in a long t-shirt dress.  Lily settled in against James’s side, watching the sheath dresses and gowns and mini-skirts swagger down the runway on a rainbow of men who were, quite frankly, killing it.  Sirius was the third to last model to walk, in a shredded red flapper style dress that was set off excellently against his blue skin and trademark smirk.  Peter wolf whistled as she squealed; James and Remus were shouting, “get it, Padfoot!”

            Sirius found them in the crowd, winked, and turned on his heel to waltz back down the runway; he had a better walk in heels than she did.  But as amazing as her boyfriend was, it was the final look that had Lily forgetting how to breathe:  a long sleeved ball gown patterned with a psychedelic swhorl of color that seemed to change with every step of the silver skinned model wearing it.

            “This guy might be mad, but if he can do work like this…” Lily trailed off to clap wildly as the show ended.

            “Should I ask him to make my wedding dress?” James murmured in her ear; she could hear him smirking.

            “Are you planning on getting married anytime soon?”

            “Maybe when I meet the right girl.”

            “And guy.”

            “And ordained official who will agree to marry three people.”

            With that bit of romantic pragmatism, James leaned in for a (rather long, very nice) kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Elton John AIDS Foundation is real, and if you're thinking of doing any sort of holiday charity donations, they are a great candidate
> 
> (and if you're American like me and terrified of the president and vice president elects, the Trevor Project is another awesome charity that raises awareness and has a crisis hotline to combat LGBTQ+ suicide)


	10. Of Daring, Nerve, and Chivalry

Remus wondered how hectic the backstage area must have been earlier, if this was how busy it was when the show had already ended.  He skimmed over the various clothes racks and mirrors until Sirius came out, still covered in blue paint, but with all twenty eight teeth shining white.

            “You were brilliant, babe,” James was the first to hug him.

            “Yeah, you’ll need to wear those heels in bed sometime, Padfoot.”

            “Thanks for that mental image, Lil,” Peter groaned.

            “Don’t mention it.”

            “I wish you hadn’t.”

            “Sorry we didn’t get you flowers or anything,” Remus said, giving Sirius another hug instead.

            “It’s enough that you guys are here,” Sirius said earnestly.  Knowing the rarity of sentiment from Sirius unmasked by sarcasm, Remus squeezed his shoulder.

            “Did you get to hear Dumbeldore?”

            “Lily cried.”

            “Sod off, he’s a powerful speaker!”

            “It was a really bloody amazing thing to be a part of.”

            “It was amazing just to _watch_.”

            “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind something amazing to _eat_.”

            “Oh, Sirius, so sorry for the delay on dinner.  We were just so caught up in complimenting you that it’s put us a little behind schedule.”  Remus’s sarcasm had not given way to emotion.

            “Yeah, yeah, you’re all too kind, just let me go and get changed.” Sirius ducked under James’s arm.

            “You’re not going to wash that gunk off?”

            “And let the makeup artists’ lovely work go to waste?”

            “We’re going to look ridiculous,” Remus complained fondly.

            “Do we ever look any other way?”

            Sirius blew him a kiss with his middle finger up and disappeared back into the dressing room.

            “Guys, let’s come to a proper rally sometime,” Lily begged.  “Over winter break.  James, you’ll be done with finals by then, right?”

            James gave a groan that could easily be translated as “don’t remind me”, but Remus was paying more attention to his girlfriend.  Lily was always so energetic and cheeky and just _present_ in her own life (and Remus was too jealous, but it was like he’d spent his whole life experiencing everything through a smudged window and had only realized when Lily came round with some Windex, wiping down all the windows except for his).  Now though, she was practically glowing, she was so in her element.   

            “I’d like to hear Dumbledore speak again,” Remus admitted.  “Not just emcee but really _speak_ , you know?”

            “He’s got an organization,” Peter said.  “I think there are fliers or something.”

            “Yeah, the Phoenix Foundation or something,” James nodded, “We can ask Tonks, she might know more.”

            Remus was pulled very abruptly from contemplating how Peter—the only one of the five of them who didn’t consider himself part of the LGBT community—felt in such an overtly queer environment.

            “When have you seen Tonks?” he demanded.  James had such a shit eating grin on, he might as well have painted “guilty” across his forehead.

            “She was helping out with the show,” he gestured vaguely towards backstage.  “Doing makeup.  So I invited her to dinner with us.”

            Every single one of Remus’s internal organs flipped over.

            “The fuck, James?”

            “It would have been rude not to ask her to catch up,” James said innocently.  “You wouldn’t have wanted me to be _rude_ , would you Moony?”

            Remus swallowed down the panic.  He would not have a panic attack over this, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t—

            “Okay, hey, come on out here.  You’re safe.  Big breath in.”  Remus scrambled to comply.  “And out.  Alright.  In.  Out.”

            Remus breathed.  Felt a small hand loosely in his.  Heard a truck honk in the distance.  Smelled exhaust and men’s deodorant and a dumpster. 

            Slowly he opened his eyes.  Lily was sitting next to him in an alley behind the stage, clearly worried but determined not to show it.  He sighed.

            “I’m alright.”  It was comparatively true.

            “You don’t have to come to dinner.  We’ll make excuses for you,” Lily said seriously.

            “No—I don’t—“ Remus dug his fingers into his hair, not panicking, just fucking frustrated.  “I _want_ to see her, but I shouldn’t.  I know I shouldn’t.  It’s too unfair for both of us.”  _Assuming she could actually be interested in me_ , Remus snorted.

            “I’m not going to tell you what to do…”

            “But you think I should go.”

            “I think you shouldn’t write this off before anything even happens.”

            “Because I’m such an ideal candidate for _casual dating_.”

            Lily rolled her eyes at that, her compassion sufficiently worn down by his sarcasm.  “No one’s saying you have to marry the girl, Remus.  Take a step back and tell me objectively what the worst is that could happen.”

            “She falls in love with someone that doesn’t exist and gets trapped in a relationship with someone who is all wrong for her.”

            Lily’s expression let him know exactly how dissatisfied with that answer she was.

            “Who’s keeping her trapped in this hypothetically bad relationship, Remus?  If you do get together and down the road it turns out you’re not exactly right for her, she’s free to break up with you.  That’s her decision, and it’s ridiculous to assume she doesn’t have the agency to make it herself.  You certainly have no business making it for her.”

            Remus said nothing.

            “So the worst that could happen is a potentially messy break up.  Which would suck, yeah, but that’s life, not the end of the world.”

            Remus kept his breathing measured. 

            “But how could she actually like _me_?” he whispered.  “Even if she is interested, there’s so much _shit_ in my closet—don’t you dare laugh at that pun Lily Evans—“

            It was too late; they were both giggling helplessly, too wrung out by the emotional tension of the conversation to stop.  As they calmed down, Lily pulled him into a hug, an awkward one, as they were sitting next to each other on the ground, but her intent was clear.

            “Okay.  Okay, here’s what you’re going to do.  You’re going to stay in the present.  You’re going to let her get to know you.  And while you figure out whether you want to date her, you’re going to let her figure out whether or not _she_ wants to date _you_.”

            Remus nodded slowly against her collarbone.

            “So what you’re saying is, I’m going to this dinner.”

 

            The others had gone ahead to grab a table at the nicer-than-they-usually-would’ve-paid-for tavern a school chum had recommended to James, so Lily and Remus met them there.  There was enough residual adrenaline in his system that the walls of the Underground kept closing in on him; they got off and walked an extra ten blocks.

            Not surprisingly, the rest of their group beat them there.  James and Tonks were laughing over empty glasses; Sirius, presumably, was off getting the next round.  Lily slid in next to Tonks, which Remus supposed he should be grateful for, though it meant he ended up directly across from Tonks.

            She looked nice.

            He was prevented from staring by James, who leaned in as soon as Remus sat down.

            “Sorry about this, mate,” he said in a low voice, squeezing Remus’s shoulder briefly.

            “Not your fault,” Remus told him because he knew James would be feeling guilty.

            “Remus, glad you could make it!” Tonks saluted him with her empty glass and a grin.  Despite his nerves, Remus found himself smiling back.  There was a splotch of purple on her cheek.

            “What’re you having, Moony?”  Sirius said, coming over from the bar to drape himself over the back of the booth. 

            “Water is fine.”

            Sirius pouted theatrically, obviously flying high, whereas Remus felt as if he were still half on the Underground.

            “He’ll have a chicken sandwich too,” Lily ordered.

            “Thanks, Mum.”

            “You’ve been demoted,” Lily informed James—who, admittedly, had probably been a literal mother hen in a past life.  James shrugged easily.

            “Dads have more fun anyway.”

            “If you’re going to offer to play catch with me, I have some bad news for you.”

            “The last time Remus voluntarily played a sport was, oh, that pickup football match freshman year?” James said for Tonks’s benefit.

            “Saying I ‘played’ in that game is a generous assessment.”

            “Our Moony is more the traditionally bookish type.”  Sirius slid in with Remus’s food.

            Tonks smiled—for Remus’s own sanity, he was going to assume it was meant for the table at large.  “I’m hardly one to judge.  I did some track my first year of uni, but anything that involves hand-eye coordination is a bad idea for me.” 

            “You’re a wicked makeup artist though.”

            “Fine motor skills,” Tonks shrugged. 

            “Do you draw at all?” Peter piped up from the seat by the window.

            “Mostly designs for makeup effects, or like preliminary sketches for set designs.  Not usually for the sake of drawing.”

            Pete nodded.

            “Do you?  Draw, I mean?”

            Peter’s face lit up a little and he started shyly describing a cartoon series he’d worked on in uni.  Remus took a big bite of his sandwich to force his stomach to stop flipping over.  Tonks was just so genuinely good; it was so effortless and endearing of her to make sure Peter, the wallflower of the group, felt included, and she approached their conversation with the same enthusiasm she did everything else and Remus wanted to spend the rest of his life watching her smile and also he wanted to throw up.  Her happiness was something he could only tarnish.

            _No_.  He had promised Lily not to catastrophize like this.  It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to Tonks.  And if he couldn’t actually make himself believe it one hundred percent, he could at least act like he did.

            So when Tonks laughed at some quip of Sirius’s, Remus let himself laugh along.  When she grinned at him, he smiled back.  When they all got up to leave, he waited with Tonks as she hailed a cab. 

            When she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, he stared at her like an idiot and tried to remember how words worked.  The cab driver honked impatiently.

            “Can I call you?” The question fell out of his mouth.  Tonks produced a Sharpie from one of her many pockets and grabbed his hand to scribble her number on. 

            “See ya, Remus.”

            “Bye, um.  Bye.”  She smiled at him again as she got in the cab, and fuck if it wasn’t too gorgeous for Remus to even describe.  Maybe—maybe he could have this. 

God knows he wanted it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this feels kind of weird and rushed, but it's been sitting on my computer for like five months and I just wanted to get it posted so oh well
> 
> I kind of dropped out of fandom entirely this fall because school but then I was looking through my drafts and I have so much of this written (and have the ending all planned) that it frustrated me to abandon it. Updates going forward will probably be typically inconsistent, but they will come eventually.
> 
> Don't know if anyone is keeping up with Coming Out of the Shadows, but that one is in this same boat.
> 
> As always, I love any kind of feedback!


	11. Excellent Motivation to Do Laundry

_If Remus can do it, so can I.  If Remus can do it, so can I_. 

            Peter chanted the thought to himself all the way down the stairs Sunday night.  He was going to see Mary, and he was going to blush automatically when she smiled at him, and he was going to ask her to get drinks with him sometime this week.

            “Pete, hey.”  She looked up from where she taking laundry from the dryer and smiled at him.  He blushed.

            “Hi, Mary.  You, um, you look nice.”

            “Oh, sure, nothing says fashion pate like your dad’s ratty old ‘Scottish Independence’ jumper.”

            He laughed along with her, nervous, but still somehow at ease, like this was something he could do every day.  Come home to Mary, make her laugh.

            “Did you have a good weekend?”

            “Eh.  Helped mum do some building maintenance because she’s hopeless with a wrench, nothing too exciting.  How was yours?”

            “Pretty neat.  I went to London with some friends, Sirius had a modeling gig.”

            “Ooh, glamorous.”

            “I guess, but it’s not my usual thing.  Usually on Saturday nights I’m sitting at home doodling with the Food Network going in the background.”

            “What about this coming Saturday?”

            “Er, what?”

            “Do you have plans for this coming Saturday?”

            “I—no.”

            “D’you want to see a movie or something?”

            She was grinning at him, a little shyly, and Peter was having a hard time believing his ears. 

            “ _Yes_ , I, um.  Yeah.”  He fidgeted with his shirt cuffs, buttoning and unbuttoning them.  “I’ve been working up the nerve to ask you for ages.”

            “Well,” Mary was blushing now too, “I got tired of waiting for you.  Um, anyway.”

            She picked up her basket, leaned in, and kissed him for long enough that Peter’s brain completely short circuited.  When they broke apart, he didn’t say anything in case this was all some kind of dumb dream and if he spoke, he’d wake up.

            “Good-night, Peter.”

           

Her smile was burned into his eyelids and he looked at it for almost an hour before finally falling asleep that night.

 

* * *

 

 

James picked up on the third ring.

“Prongs?”

“Hey Pete!”  Not James.

“Lily?”

“Yeah, do you need James?  I can grab him, he just got out of the shower.” 

“Depends, was Sirius in there with him?”

“Nah, he’s down volunteering at the animal shelter.”

“Okay, ‘cause I got enough of James’s ‘oh no we were most certainly not just fucking’ voice in uni.  For the record, he’s a rubbish actor.”

Lily laughed brightly, and it was easy for Peter to see in that instant how James and Sirius could have absorbed her into their lives so easily—well, it hadn’t been _easy_ , actually they’d all been kind of a mess—but so _willingly_.  So _completely_.

He thought back to how confident Mary had been when she asked him out last night and smiled giddily.

“James, phone!” Lily called away from the speaker before returning to normal volume.  “We’ll have to wait for him to do his hair, though, so it might still be a few minutes.”

            “That’s fine.”

            “How’ve you been?”

            “Erm, good.  You know.”

            “Fudge is still a kiss-ass?”

            “Fudge is still a kiss-ass.  Malfoy—you know him, he works for Riddle—was over to smarm today.”

            “What the hell happened to freedom of press, huh?”

            “We’re not all as radical as you, Lil.” 

            “It’s not radical to want the free flow of information unobstructed by a handful of conservative old-money pricks!”

            Peter had had this conversation with Lily probably twice a month since they’d become friends through James and Sirius, but he knew how to choose his battles.

            “Oh here’s James.  Nice talking with you, Pete, you need to call more often!  Come to James’s game Saturday.”  Her voice faded as she moved away from the phone.  “James, tell him to come round Saturday for your match.”

            “Hey, Wormtail.”

            Peter grinned at the nickname, an involuntary reaction.  “Prongs.”

            “What’s up, mate?”

            “I, um, well—“ _I have a date with a pretty girl and I want you to be impressed._   “I just—where’s the nicest spot in town to take a date?”

            “A date?  Pete, did you ask that Mary chick out?”

            “I—yeah.”  Near enough.

            “Dude no way!  That’s awesome!  What sort of place does she like?  Like Hogs Head definitely isn’t as nice as the Broomsticks, but it’s quieter—or you could do a picnic, I think it’s supposed to be nice this weekend, and that’s the sort of romantic thing chicks like—I know what chicks like, I’m dating one, aren’t I?” James shouted the last bit, presumably in response to some quip by Lily that Peter had missed.

            “Cool.  Um, thanks Prongs.”

            “Anytime, man.  Let us know how it goes!”

            “Yeah.  I will.  Bye.”

            Peter hung up.  When he looked at his phone, there were already two texts from Mary.

            He just couldn’t stop smiling lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is super angsty, fair warning


	12. Of Family, Names, and Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is the second chapter of a two chapter update)
> 
> Content warning for character injury and anxiety. See end notes for more (spoilery) details.

James breathed hard, too focused on the gameplay to notice the sweat in his eyes.  It was bloody hot for April in the north, but football would go on, rain or shine.  Or oppressive fucking humid heat. 

            It was a hell of a game too—dead tied in the last three minutes, with none too much sportsmanship on either side.  The other team’s striker, a creep named Mulciber, flopped every time the Lion’s defense got within half a meter of him; Rosier and Podmore had gotten a yellow card apiece for each team, and Lestrange had actually gotten a red for kicking their goalie, Frank, while he was down with the ball.  Their trainer had diagnosed at least two bruised ribs, maybe broken, and Diggory had forced him to sit out this half, which only drove the stakes up for the rest of them.

            “Potter!” their center mid shouted.  James sprinted up for the pass, catching it on his chest and neatly dodging a defender.  He grinned, it was just him and the goal now, his hair blowing back as he ran.  The game was theirs if he made this shot.  He waited a few steps longer than he normally would to give the keeper even less reaction time.

            The defender slide tackled him just as the ball left his cleat.

           

 

* * *

 

 

            Sirius swore as he saw James nearly flip over Regulus’s outstretched leg and regain his footing only to run headlong into the goal post and collapse.

            His stomach jumped into his throat, which was inconvenient, because that was where his larynx was doing its best to scream every swearword he knew in the direction of his younger—well, _brother_ was a strong word for it. 

            “Fucking tosser, you bloody little prick!”  It had to be karma, punishing him for ignoring Regulus—he hadn’t even looked towards the Snake’s half of the field after seeing the little _R. Black_ on their roster, but he certainly had Sirius’s attention now.

                “Sirius,” Lily barked.  Her face was pale—paler than normal, at any rate—but her eyes flashed.  She hadn’t looked away from James.

                “There’s a back entrance to the locker rooms,” Sirius leaned down to say it into her ear, keeping his voice measured though he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his system.  She looked at him just long enough to nod once; he squeezed in front of her, unfortunately knocking his knees into some of the poor saps sitting in front of them, and led the way to the maintenance stairs.

“The upside of how shitily they pay Prongs is it means they don’t have the cash to fix their alarms,” he said as they walked through the door without fuss, despite its insistence that it was an _Emergency Exit Only_ and _Alarm will Sound_.

The locker room wasn’t locked either, but there were enough people milling about—including some EMTs with a stretcher _fucking fuck_ —that they couldn’t get close to the trainers’ room where James had to be.  At least, not without making a big fucking deal and probably getting themselves kicked out.

            “Padfoot, which of us is his emergency contact for the club?”  Lily whispered.  Sirius grabbed her hand because he knew the nickname reminded them both of James, and he knew James would probably be fine, there was no reason to assume the worst, except if that was true, why was there and ambulance siren blaring outside, and why hadn’t he gotten up off the field oh _fuck_ —

            “Padfoot.  Sirius, breathe.  We’ll find him, and I’ll be his fiancée and you’ll be his brother, and he’ll be fine because if his dumb ass went and got hurt, I’ll murder him.” 

            Sirius nodded and squeezed her hand tighter, probably to the point that it hurt, but Lily was a rock in times of crisis.  She didn’t let go when her mobile went off, just answered one-handed.

            “Yes, this is she.  Yes I was at the game, I’m actually downstairs already is there any way—Yes.  Yes, okay.  You’re sure I can’t get in to see him now.  Yes.  I—we can, um, we can meet them at the hospital.”  Lily brought the phone down from her ear, and Sirius could see the indent her teeth left in her lower lip when she opened her mouth to fill him in, though the picture was already painfully clear.

            “That was the club trainer.  They said—they said time was of the essence.  And we should meet him at the hospital.”

            All of the hard work Sirius had done not to fixate on the worst case scenario went out the fucking window and as they half ran out to the car, it was hard enough to breathe, let alone think optimistically.  James was in the hospital and running out of time and Sirius wasn’t there for him, even though they’d both swore up and down they’d always have each other’s back and he was going to lose James like he’d lost every other person he’d ever considered family and anything he ever did for the rest of his goddamn godforsaken life was going to be too little too late.

            “Sirius, list the conjugations of _ir_.” Lily spoke through gritted teeth, and Sirius knew she was just as stressed as he was, and he was making it harder for her, but self-hatred wasn’t going to help anyone right now, so he closed his eyes and forced his shrieking brain to start thinking in Spanish.

            “Voy, vas, va, vamos, vatis, van,” he listed carefully.  Present indicative.  Now the imperfect.  Lily didn’t interrupt him.

            He got all the way through perfect subjunctive when they pulled up at the hospital, and Lily threw the car into park.  She was probably going to get a ticket, not that Sirius gave a damn, comparatively.  He’d gotten a lot worse than tickets for far lesser causes.

            They ran into the lobby, and the triage nurse raised her eyebrows. 

            “James Potter,” he demanded.  “We need to see James Potter.”

            “I’m his fiancée, he has me listed as emergency contact,” Lily followed up, slightly more polite but with no more sign of accepting a refusal than Sirius himself had given.  The half-truths tripped lightly out of her mouth.  “This is his brother.  Please, we know he came in by ambulance, it can’t have been ten minutes ago.”

            “James Potter is still receiving emergency treatment in Wing C.  You’ll have to wait to see him.”

            “Can you tell us—is he stable?  What’s wrong with him?”

            “They’re following protocol for dangerous head trauma, and that’s all the information I have here, sweetheart.”  The nurse could not have sounded less kindly, and Sirius really thought he could punch her.

            “Thank you for your help.”  Lily spoke with more saccharine venom than she used when talking to her bitch sister, and turned on the spot to face him. 

            “Let’s go find fucking Wing fucking C.”

 

            They found Wing C, which was a fancy name for hell.  If Sirius had known eternal damnation would be remotely this bad, he would have listened a lot more closely when his mother insisted God hated him. 

            His watch insisted he had not been here for an eternity, just three hours.  He could see the adrenaline drain out of Lily from minute to minute as she sagged in on herself and he sat here jittering his leg or pacing the tiny grey waiting room and not doing a damned useful thing for anyone.          

            Periodically they would be approached by somebody with a clipboard to be given updates that were a lot of technical mumbo jumbo.  Sirius gathered that James’s life probably wasn’t in danger, but they’d had to operate or some shit because his brain was bleeding and the pressure could have killed him, but it didn’t, and Sirius could still be totally misunderstanding between his stress amping up into a nightmare of executive dysfunction and the doctor using more abbreviations and fucking Latin than he was English.

Lily actually fell asleep against his shoulder before anyone came out to tell them they could see James.  He held her hand as they walked in to see their boyfriend, scarily pale under his dark complexion, half his head shaved and hair sticking out every which way from a clinically clean white bandage, looking even more a mess than it ever did first thing in the mornings.

Lily was sobbing quietly.  It was the first sound he’d heard her make in hours.

“He’s probably going to be out for a while,” the nurse who had brought them in whispered.  “But you can stay with him.  If you’re quiet no one will bother you about visiting hours.”

It was the first good thing they’d heard since the Lion’s goal ten minutes into the match.  Sirius half collapsed into the chair by the bed, grabbing hold of James’s hand that didn’t have the IV in.  Lily clambered up onto the end of the bed, careful not to jostle James, and curled up with her head resting on his thigh and fingers tangled with Sirius’s other hand.

They were all here, they were all together, they were all going to be okay.  For now it was enough.  It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expanded content warning: James gets tripped during a match and hits his head on the goal post, losing consciousness. It is not clear how seriously he is injured, but he does get taken to the hospital. Sirius experiences an anxiety attack with some thoughts of self-loathing in response.
> 
> JackNSallyGirl's fabulous marauders fics inspired me to crawl back out of the woodwork with this fic. Hope you enjoyed it, despite the time lapse since I last updated! 
> 
> Leave a comment, make an author's day :)

**Author's Note:**

> This started as just a James/Lily/Sirius domestic drabble, but the whole universe just kinda sprang fully formed into my head so I'm expanding it.
> 
> That said: here is my obligatory disclaimer that I already have two other WIPs (Coming Out of the Shadows/ Where Romance Novels Go to Die are both next gen novels, check them out if you want). I guaruntee that at least one of them will be updated at least once a month, but beyond that?????
> 
> If you want to come talk about James/Lily/Sirius (there is NOT ENOUGH of this in the world) you can find me on tumblr at peterpettgrw. Thanks for reading!


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